


He Tasted Like Adventure

by lavenderfables



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, F/M, Librarian AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-13
Updated: 2016-10-13
Packaged: 2018-08-22 05:17:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8274274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavenderfables/pseuds/lavenderfables
Summary: Killian Jones is the new librarian and Emma Swan is a mess.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for morrisonfreckles on Tumblr.

Belle smiled across the issues desk as Emma sorted through the returns. Sighing, Emma looked up her and said, “What is it?”

“I have a date.”

Emma blinked, a little stunned. “A date?”

“Yes. Don’t look so surprised. I am cute.”

Emma bit her bottom lip. Belle was all smiles and, yes, incredibly cute but Emma couldn’t help but ask, “Not with–”

“No!” Belle wrinkled her nose. “We’re done, Emma. I told you.”

Belle had told Emma she and Gold were done about six different times since Emma had started working at Storybrooke Library a few years ago. She levelled a look at Belle, just to be sure.

“Don’t give me that look.”

“I can’t help it. I worry. Gold was awful to you.”

Belle sighed, put upon but sad. “I know, but I mean it this time, Emma. Besides, I think Ruby would kill him if we started dating again.”

“Her and Dorothy both.”

The corners of Belle’s lips turned up in a fond smile. She rested her folded arms on the issue desk, leaning forward. “So, are you going to ask me what her name is or am I going to have to skip right to the point?”

Emma’s eyebrows shot up. “Her?”

Belle grinned. “Yes. Her.” Her grin softened. “Her name is Mulan.”

“Your self-defence teacher?”

Belle nodded happily. “It was supposed to be a blind date but, well, you know Dorothy.”

Emma shook her head, smiling. “So, when’s the date?”

“After work.”

Emma’s smile fell. “After work? But what about–”

Belle looked across at her sheepishly.

“You want me to show the new guy around?” Emma bristled. “Belle, no. I haven’t even met him yet. And I have to pick up Henry.”

“I’m sure Mary Margaret won’t mind babysitting him for a few hours.” Belle glanced over her shoulder to a table between the stacks. Mary Margaret was sitting at one end of the table reading a book. David Nolan was sitting at the other end, reading a newspaper. They were so hopeless that Emma couldn’t help smiling when she looked at them.

“I don’t even know his name.”

Belle turned back, smiling at her. “Killian Jones.”

Emma’s heart gave a little start. She remembered ruffled hair and clenched fists. Gold’s nose at an unusual angle, blood running off his chin. She remembered holding Killian back, just in case, as Belle stood behind Ruby and Dorothy. Gold hadn’t taken the break up well; he never did.

Emma had never talked to Killian before then – hadn’t spoken to him since. He was just the brooding widow in the corner of Granny’s Diner who Emma saw every other day. Dark and handsome and a little wild. It was hard to miss him but harder to talk to him. Even Sheriff Graham kept a polite and respectful distance.

Emma went back to organizing the returns, leaning forward so her hair could hide her face. “ _That_ Killian Jones?” she asked, keeping her voice level.

Belle laughed. “Yes, _that_ Killian Jones.”

Emma didn’t look up. “Gold must be furious.”

“Very. So, you’ll do it?”

Emma bit her bottom lip.

She had no reason not to do it. Belle was right. Mary Margaret would be more than happy to pick Henry up from school – David would probably walk her. He lived nearby and, being him, he’d eavesdrop on the whole conversation. His crush on Mary Margaret wasn’t exactly subtle.

Still. This was Killian Jones. Brooding, handsome, and a little wild Killian Jones. The same Killian Jones Emma had shared silent drinks with when Neal had come knocking at her door for weekends with Henry. The same Killian Jones who had sat with Henry outside his school when Emma had been running late – too late, it had been pitch black by the time she’d shown up.

She glanced up and Belle was watching her. “Fine. But you owe me.”

Belle smiled. “I’ll bring you a Bearclaw tomorrow.”

“Make it two.”

Belle laughed and came around the desk to grab the returns trolley.

***

Storybrooke Library felt empty without Belle. It always did. It was as if the moment she walked out the door, the library laid down like a dog and waited for her return.

Emma kept busy while she waited for Killian to show.

She put away the last of the returns and wiped down the tables. She cleaned up the issues desk and the staff lounge, and filled in what paper work needed to be filled. She hunted out some books for Archie from the stack and tucked them under the issues desk for tomorrow morning, at the crack of dawn, when he stopped by to pick them up.

She glanced at the clock.

6:00.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She could do this. If she could survive Regina’s safety inspections and Neal’s funeral, she could survive showing Killian around.

There was a knock at the door.

Emma tucked her hair behind her ears, straightened her jacket. Tugged her hair out from behind her ears, pushed them back.

She shook herself. “You can do this.”

She cross to the library’s main doors, turned the key, and opened it just wide enough to peer out. Killian glanced back at her from the shadows, hands stuffed deep in his pockets. “Swan,” he said, sounding surprised.

“Belle has a date. She asked me to show you around.”

Killian nodded and ducked inside before she could open the door wider. He passed all too close and she stepped back, swallowing nervously. He smelt like the ocean – that happened when you lived on a boat. He’d been living on it since his wife passed away. Cancer, like Neal.

She closed the door.

She dug deep inside herself for small talk. “Cold night.”

“Hmm.” Killian looked around at the library. Emma realized she’d never seen him in here before.

“Have you worked in a library before?”

“Milah used to run this one, before it got shut down back in 2008.”

“Huh. I didn’t know that.”

“She loved to read, and travel.”

Emma nodded, feeling a bit lost. “So…” She shook herself and walked over to the issues desk. “This is the issues desk. Obviously.” She felt her facing growing red. She pointed across from the desk. “New releases. Librarians favourites.”

Killian smiled. “Someone likes Jules Verne.”

“Belle. She’s crazy about him.”

“I’m more into adventure novels myself.”

“What kind?”

“Pirates, mostly. Anything on the high seas.”

Emma smiled, a little pleased with herself. She guessed as much.

Coming out from behind the issues desk, she led him through the library, pointing out each section. She showed him the returns box and explained all the basic policies about late returns. They took the elevator up to the staff room and Belle’s office, took it down again to the stacks. Killian listened and nodded, asking the occasional question but mostly just listening. Emma filled his silences, not really sure what else to do.

They took the elevator back up to the main library.

“That’s about it,” Emma said, walking back to the issues desk. “Do you have any other questions?” She looked back to find him on the other side of the desk.

“Aye.”

The corners of Emma’s lips turned up in a smile. He definitely had a thing for pirates. “Ask away.”

He smiled. “Fancy a drink at The Rabbit’s Hole?”

Emma heart skipped a beat before she could be rational. They were co-workers now. That’s probably all he had meant by it. A drink between two new co-workers. Nothing more, nothing less.

“I can’t. Henry…”

He nodded, still smiling. “Another time.”

“Sure.” She couldn’t help the small sliver of hope inside her chest. His smile made her wish for impossible things. Things she shouldn’t wish for.

Grabbing her bag out from the small locker beneath the issues desk, she walked him out. The air was brisk, despite it being the middle of spring. He smiled at her beneath the street lights, brought up his hand up. Hesitated, with a small apologetic smile. He pushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

“Thanks.” Her breath bloomed before her. She hoped he thought her breathlessness was because of the cold. “See you tomorrow.”

He waved as he headed towards the docks, and she watched him go. Probably a little longer than she should.

When Mary Margaret opened the door, Emma rested her head on the other woman’s shoulder. “I’m so royally screwed.”

***

There were only two people in Storybrooke who knew Emma had a crush on Killian. Three, if you counted Ruby but Emma didn’t. Ruby thought she had a crush on everyone. Mary Margaret and Elsa though, they counted.

She wasn’t sure how they’d figured it out. Maybe she said his name in her sleep. With Mary Margaret up all night grading papers and Elsa’s unusual Skyping hours with her sister, they’d be awake to. Henry, thankfully, seemed oblivious. Despite his best efforts, he was usually dead to the world after 10.

Currently, he was preoccupied with his Xbox. Like the sweet little kid he was (not so little anymore; he was so tall now), he had headphones on so he wouldn’t bother anyone.

Emma kissed the top of his head. “Hey, kid.”

“Hey, mom.”

Emma went over to the kitchen where Mary Margaret was busy making hot cocoa and Elsa was grabbing Rocky Road from the fridge. Elsa set the open tub firmly on the kitchen nook in front of Emma. She stabbed a spoon into the ice cream. “Eat.”

Emma did as she was told.

Once the cocoa was made, Mary Margaret and Elsa pulled up a stool each and sat across from Emma.

Emma sighed. “How am I supposed to get any work done with him there?” She didn’t care that she was whining like a child. Mary Margaret and Elsa never judged.

Mary Margaret smiled, shaking her head. “You’ll be fine. I get work done with David in the same building as me every day.”

“That’s not the same. David’s a substitute.”

Mary Margaret sighed. “An incredibly hot substitute.”

Elsa nudged Mary Margaret with her elbow, narrowing her eyes. “What Mary Margaret means is that you’ll get used to it.”

“No, I won’t. It’s going to be a disaster. God, you should have been there. I made such an ass of myself.”

“Well, it will be different tomorrow,” Elsa said firmly. “Belle will be there.”

“Like she can be trusted. You remember what happened when I was still dating Graham.”

“She has a point,” Mary Margaret agreed.

Elsa glared at them both. “What is this? I’m supposed to be the one who overthinks things, not you two.”

Mary Margaret looked back at her solemnly. “The anxiety. It’s catching.”

Emma sneezed.

Elsa glared at her.

“Don’t give me that look. It was an accident.”

Elsa sighed. “Look, maybe it won’t be so bad. You’ll get to know him better. Maybe you’ll even–”

“Exactly. It would be a disaster.”

Elsa laughed. “Emma.”

“No. I’m not dating the hot brooding widow who lives in a boat. I have Henry. It’s bad enough I live with you two.”

Mary Margaret gaped at her. “We’re not that bad.” She glanced at Elsa. “Are we?”

Emma sighed. “No, I just mean… Single mothers aren’t supposed to rent with two teachers.”

“It’s an education,” Mary Margaret said firmly. Five years and it was still her favourite joke.

“I have to think about Henry first.”

Elsa reached over and put her hand on top of Emma’s where it rested on the kitchen nook beside the tub of Rocky Road. “It’s okay to think about yourself first sometimes, Emma. After everything, you deserve a little happiness.”

Emma looked her dead in the eye. “You want to know the first thing we talked about? His wife.”

“His _dead_ wife,” Elsa clarified, then winced. “Wow, that came out wrong.”

“The first conversation David and I had was about his ex.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “Of course, it was. They still live together.”

“Still. You have to give this a chance. Elsa’s right. You deserve a little happiness, after everything.”

Emma looked over her shoulder at Henry. “Henry’s all the happiness I need.”

***

It wasn’t a disaster. At least, not to anyone other than Emma.

Killian was an amazing librarian. He was downright charismatic, making conversation with customers while he sorted the returns or shelfed books. Even Leroy looked up from his laptop to smile at Killian when he went by. It had taken Emma three months to get Leroy to smile at her when she’d started. It was insulting, but mostly cute. And god, was Killian cute.

Surprisingly, delightfully, overwhelmingly cute.

Emma had never heard him talk so much, never seen him smile so much, in all the years they’d lived in the same town together. It was hard not to listen in or watch him when he was in the same room. At least, it was for Emma.

It was a nightmare.

The worst part by far was all the casual touching. His hand lightly on the small of her back, sometimes just barely grazing her shirt. His shoulder against hers as they sorted returns together. Thank god he hadn’t tried tucking her hair behind her ear again. She probably would have attacked him, shoved him right up against the stacks and had her wicked way with him.

She felt like she was going crazy.

Killian crazy.

Like any sensible person, she tried to keep her distance. She worked in the stacks and made him stay at the issues desk while she shelved books as much as possible, but it was so _easy_ being around him. Weirdly easy. Sometimes, she just forgot. She’d find herself in the Young Adult section pointing out Henry’s favourites or pushing the return trolley after Killian as he shelved.

It was nice. Beyond nice, actually.

At the end of his second week, he issued a book and handed it to her as she was on her way out the door. Confused, Emma peered down at the book. She gave a little laugh when she saw what it was. “Persuasion?”

He grinned. “Dashing sailor, strong heroine, Austen at her best. What’s not to love?”

She laughed again, shaking her head, but none the less she took it home. She curled up on the couch beside Henry while he worked on his homework, Elsa and Mary Margaret working on lesson plans behind them at the kitchen nook. She read it in one night, the story new somehow, as if Killian had breathed new life into it.

Belle smiled at the dark circles under her eyes the next day. “Good read?” she asked. She was only half paying attention, the cellphone in her hand buzzing every few seconds with a message. Things with Mulan must be going well.

Emma smiled and returned the book, adding it to the returns trolley. “It really was.”

***

It became their thing, giving each other books. Because of Henry, a lot of the books she gave Killian were from the Young Adult section but he didn’t seem to mind. He grinned whenever she handed him a new one. She couldn’t help but grin back.

Six months after he started, he caught her by the arm as she was on her way out the door. “Have a drink with me.” He was grinning and, like a fool, she couldn’t help but grin back.

She said yes.

Sending a text to Mary Margaret, and Elsa too just to be safe, they walked slowly in the direction of The Rabbit Hole. It wasn’t far; nothing in Storybrooke was far. Still, it gave them more than enough time to barrel through all the small talk Emma could think of.

“Nice weather we’re having.”

“It’s drizzling.”

“I like drizzle.”

“Of course you do.”

When they reached The Rabbit Hole, he opened the door for her. She ducked inside, the heat and smell of beer washing over her. Coming in through the door behind her, Killian placed a hand on small of her back.

“Booth?”

“Okay.”

He picked one by the window, not that it offered any light. The blinds were drawn. He signalled the bartender who smiled and gave a nod.

“Come here often?”

“Smee’s an old friend.”

A waitress appeared with a small bowl of pretzels and a glass of rum a moment later. She set both in front of Killian with a smile then turned to Emma. “Anything I can get you?”

“Just a beer. Whatever’s on tap.”

The waitress nodded and left.

Emma pulled the pretzels towards her, crossing her ankles under the table. God, what now? What did co-workers who didn’t have crushes on each other talk about over drinks?

“Belle and Mulan seem to be getting along well,” Killian offered conversationally.

Emma latched onto the topic desperately. “It’s their six month anniversary next week.”

“I may or may not have insider information about what Mulan’s planning to give Belle.”

“A key to her apartment?” Emma joked.

Killian grinned.

Emma gaped at him. “No way.”

“Lass is head over heels. What do you expect?”

“I still thought maybe she was hung up on Aurora.”

“Swan, that’s old news.”

“It’s so hard to tell with her! She keeps her feeling so close to her chest.”

“Aye, that she does.” He took a sip of his rum and smiled. “So, you think Belle will say yes?”

“Of course. I haven’t seen her like this since, well, Gold.” Killian set his drink down abruptly and Emma barrelled on. “She was never this serious with Will, that’s for sure.”

“Poor lad.”

“He got back together with his wife so all’s well that ends well.”

Killian took another sip of his drink. A long one.

Emma shoved three pretzels in her mouth.

The waitress came back with her beer and another bowl of pretzels. She smiled at Emma while she set them down.

“Another rum, Tink.”

Emma focused on her beer. Her beer and her pretzels and filling up the silence with pointless conversation.

She knew there was bad blood between him and Gold. Everyone knew. It wasn’t exactly a secret that Milah had left Gold for him. God, why had she mentioned Gold?

When Tink brought a third glass of rum, she brought another bowl of pretzels.

Killian smiled, a little hazily from the rum, and pushed the bowl towards Emma with his prosthetic hand.

The story behind that was about as well-known as the animosity between Killian and Gold. A drunk driver, probably some tourist. They’d run off before the cops had arrived and, as bad luck would have it, they’d paid in cash. Killian had lost his hand and Milah had to get stitches along her hairline. She’d gotten an MRI too, just to be safe, while Killian was in surgery.

Everyone knew what happened next.

Killian raised his hand to signal for another rum. Emma took his hand and pressed it down onto the table. “I think you’ve had enough.”

He smiled at her, not seeming to mind. “You’re probably right.”

***

Emma walked him home. She didn’t feel right about letting him walk home alone, not in his state. What if he fell off the dock and drowned? Slipped and hit his head on a rail, and then drowned?

“This is me,” he said, stopping beside a small ship.

Emma smiled when she saw the name. “ _The Jolly Roger_?”

“Milah named it. Bit of a Peter Pan fan.”

“Wow. It’s been years since I’ve read that.”

“I have a copy, if you’d like to borrow it.”

Emma eyed the space between the dock and the ship. She said yes.

Below deck, _The Jolly Roger_ was cramped but homely. Every available surface was covered in either photos or books. Killian had to crawl across the large bed at the back of the cabin to find the book he was looking for.

Emma looked away, blushing.

Sliding to the end of the bed, he held his copy out to her. It was warn and fraying, the spine peeling away slightly. A much loved book. Emma cradled it like it was something precious – she suspected it was.

“Thank you.”

He smiled up at her. “See you tomorrow.”

She nodded and turned to leave. He caught her hand. She looked back at him. He looked up at her, small and sad. “Sorry, about tonight.”

“It wasn’t that bad.”

He sighed. “I slipped. I keep slipping.”

She wasn’t entirely sure what he was talking about but she squeezed his hand gently. When he tugged on her hand in response, she let him guide her forward. Just a little. Just close enough so he could kiss her lightly on her knuckles.

“You’re a good woman, Swan.”

She touched his cheek, gently. “So are you.” Killian chuckled and she groaned, letting her hand fall to her side. “You know what I mean.”

He squeezed her hand, gazing up at her as if he was lost at sea and she was the North Star. “Aye, that I do.”

She didn’t know what he meant by it, but he was drunk and she was tired so she let it go. She pulled her hand free and climbed up and out of the cabin. “See you tomorrow!” she call over her shoulder.

She fled.

***

Belle was grinning. “She asked me to move in with her.”

“Aye, lass. You’ve mentioned it, once or twice.”

Emma and Killian were sorting through the returns behind the issues desk. They exchanged a smile that Belle rolled her eyes at. She was too happy to care that they were making fun of her.

Things hadn’t changed much between them since that night. Emma and Killian had slipped easily back into their routine as if nothing had happened. It made Emma realize that they did, in fact, have a routine.

Killian arrived some time before eight and Emma sometime after, having dropped Henry at school. They’d sort through returns and any requests while Belle worked up in her office. At around midday, Belle would return from her lunch date with Mulan, bringing coffee with her. She’d shoo Emma and Killian upstairs to the staff lounge where they’d read and make small talk until they had to head down again. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, the afternoon would bring Henry, walked to the library by Elsa. Every other week day, Emma finished work early to pick Henry up from school. She and Killian would exchange books as she headed out the door, Belle usually chatting with Leroy in the background about the book he was working on – a romance, if you can believe it.

She hadn’t read Peter Pan yet.

She’d been too frazzled that night to focus on the words and Killian just kept giving her books. There just never seemed to be any spare time to read it. It just sat on her bedside table, neglected, day after day.

Emma got the feeling Killian had forgotten about lending it to her. He never mentioned it, never asked after it. Emma felt, at times, that she should return it but she felt bad about doing so without reading it first. She just had to find the time.

Then, one day, Killian didn’t show up for work.

He wasn’t there with Belle in the morning. He didn’t show up later with coffee and a hurried apology, smelling faintly of alcohol and regret.

He just didn’t show up at all.

Belle frowned at Emma when she handed a coffee across the issues desk to her. “Have you heard from him?”

Emma shook head.

Belle nodded.

Neither of them were surprised.

Today was the anniversary of Milah’s death.

***

Milah died from a cancerous brain tumour. Emma didn’t know the details. All she knew was that the car crash had been a blessing in disguise. The MRI had caught it early, although still not early enough. With chemo, she’d lived longer than even the doctors had expected.

Two years.

Emma didn’t know how long Neal had known about his own cancer before he showed up at her door. But two years was about how long he lasted after he did. Two years of weekends with Henry and hospital visits. Two years of feeling guilty for wishing him dead all those years.

Emma bought flowers from Nimue and Merlin’s flower shop down the road. Just a few daisies, nothing too ridiculous. She texted Elsa and then Mary Margaret, asking them to walk Henry home, and hopped in her yellow bug.

Her and Neal’s yellow bug.

The drive to the cemetery was quiet and finding Neal’s grave was easy. The flowers she and Henry had left last year were still there, half rotted away. She took them out and replaced them with all but one of the daisies.

She didn’t say anything. She never did.

Finding Milah’s grave seemed daunting but didn’t turn out to be that difficult. When she caught the smell of rum on the air, she followed it.

Killian was leaning back against a grave stone, his eyes closed. There were flowers beside him and a bottle of rum in his lap. Looking, she saw it was empty.

“Killian?”

He opened his eyes. Focused on her. He smiled, small and sad, up at her. “Don’t worry, lass. I haven’t drunk a drop.”

Emma tentatively sat down in front of him. “What’s with the smell then?”

He set the bottle aside, ran a hand through his hair. “Milah’s favourite. I empty a bottle onto her grave every year. Sad, I know.” His eyes focused on the daisy – the simple and white – in her hand. “Visiting someone?”

“Yes. No. I mean, I just was.”

“Neal.” It wasn’t a question.

Emma nodded anyway.

Killian sighed. “Cancer. It’s a bitch.”

“Preaching to the choir.”

He smiled a little then, a real smile.

It felt wrong, smiling back at him while sitting on his wife’s grave. She held up the daisy – a white flag, a peace offering. “I- This is for Milah.” She leaned forward, setting it alongside Killian’s bouquet.

“Thank you, Emma.”

She glanced quickly up at him, painfully aware that was the first time he’d ever called her Emma. Swan, lass, love, but never Emma. Not until now.

She ducked her head and stood. “Well, I’d better head home. See you tomorrow?”

He smiled and nodded. “Tomorrow.”

***

Things were different after that. Emma didn’t expect them to be.

He brought her coffee in the morning, coffee and sometimes a Bearclaw.

At lunch, instead of heading up to the staff lounge, they took the coffees Belle brought them and sat outside on a bench. It was nearing the end of winter, snow turning to sludge as spring crept closer. To keep warm, they sat shoulder to shoulder, knee to knee, and talked. Sometimes about Milah and Neal, mostly about books and Henry.

Killian being genuinely interested in Henry was almost the end of her.

On Tuesdays and Thursdays, Killian helped Henry with his Math homework. Killian was surprisingly good at Math. Especially if he could put it into context with ships.

On days that weren’t Tuesdays and Thursdays, he walked with her to Henry’s school. He’d ruffle Henry’s hair and give Emma a quick hug goodbye.

Hugging was new, too.

Side hugs and quick hugs. Hugs with his face in her hair, hugs that went on for longer than they needed to.

Emma was surprised she hadn’t kissed him yet – and, god, did she want to. It was ridiculous how much she wanted to. She felt like she would crack down the middle, come apart at the seams, with wanting him.

It became a constant ache inside her.

She got used to it.

***

“I can’t believe it’s been a year,” Killian said. He was at the head of the returns trolley, shelfing books. Emma followed, pushing the trolley behind him. “I’ve been working here for a year.”

She smiled. “Happy anniversary!”

He snorted and she rolled her eyes at him. His lips were turned up in the corners, the slightest of smiles. She wanted to capture it with her mouth.

She looked away. “We should celebrate. Granny’s after work?” She learnt never to mention drinks with him, to never put him in a situation where alcohol surrounded him. They never talked about it but she knew now that he went to meetings.

“Sure.”

Emma asked Belle if she wanted to come, but she already had plans. She looked flustered so Emma didn’t press, sending a text off to Mary Margaret and Elsa to let them know.

She told herself, very firmly, it wasn’t a date.

She text Mary Margaret and Elsa not to wait up, just in case.

***

Ruby smirked at them when they walked in. Emma tensed, seeing the “I told you so” on Ruby’s lips. Thankfully, Dorothy came to the rescue, distracting Ruby with a kiss.

Emma ducked into a booth. Killian sat across from her.

He smiled. She smiled back.

Granny appeared at their table. “What can I get you?”

Emma ordered her usual and, by the sound of it, Killian did to. Neither of them bothered to look at the menu.

“So,” Emma said when they were alone again. “Happy anniversary.”

Killian chuckled. “You’ve said that.”

“As true then as it is now.”

He smiled, shaking his head. Absently, he adjusted his prosthetic hand – a nervous tick. She was making him nervous.

Emma bit her bottom lip, not sure what to do.

Dorothy came to her rescue, again. She set down a pitcher of water and glasses, making small talk as she went. She poured them both a glass. “Your orders will be out in 10 minutes or so.” She returned to the counter where Ruby pouted at her. Emma watched as Dorothy shook her head at her with a smile. She gave her girlfriend a kiss.

Emma turned back to Killian to find him watching her. She couldn’t read his expression, something almost like fondness but softer. “What?”

His expression turned playful. “Promise you won’t run away?”

“Depends. Are you secretly a serial killer?”

He shook his head. “You watch too many crime shows.”

“That wasn’t a no.”

“No, I’m not a serial killer.”

“Good. I wasn’t planning on die tonight.”

He chuckled, shaking his head softly. “I like you.”

Emma was feeling loose after their banter and didn’t miss a beat, even though her heart did. “I like you too.”

“No, I mean–”

Granny appeared beside their table, setting down their plates. “Anything else I get you two?”

Killian smiled up at her politely. “No, thank you.”

Granny wandered back to the counter, checking on customers as she went. Killian turned back to Emma, his playfulness gone.

Emma panicked. “God, I’m hungry.” She pulled her knife and fork out of the napkin they were wrapped in, stabbing her fork into one of the chips on her plate.

“Emma.”

Emma shoved the chip in her mouth. “Hmm?”

He was looking at her with that expression again. The one a little softer than fondness. “I like you.”

Emma swallowed. She took a sip of her water. “You’ve said that already,” she teased. She desperately wanted him to stop talking like that. She just as desperately wanted him to never stop.

She stabbed another chip, popped it in her mouth.

“I think I’m falling in love with you.”

Emma choked on her chip. She managed to recover enough to swallow. She took another sip of water. “You’re joking, right?”

He looked hurt.

Emma stared at him. “You’re not joking.”

“No. I’m not.”

Emma wanted to kiss him. She wanted lean across the table, grab him by the collar of his jacket, and kiss that hurt look right off his face. She wanted to soothe that look with her mouth, with her hands, with murmured I-think-I’m-falling-in-love-with-you-too’s.

But Emma was panicking, panicking like she always did when fantasies started to become realities.

She slid quickly out of the booth. “Sorry, I… Bathroom.” She blushed in horror as words failed her and hurried to the back of the diner. She shoved open the door to the women’s bathroom and closed it firmly behind her.

“Fuck. _Fuck._ ”

She was so royally screwed.

***

She called Mary Margaret.

“Emma?”

“Killian just told me he’s in love with me. Oh my god, what do I do?”

Mary Margaret was silent for a couple of long stunned seconds. “I’m putting you on speaker phone.”

 _Beep_.

“Okay. Elsa’s here. Henry’s busy. Talk.”

Emma told them everything. More than everything. She was so panicked, she didn’t have a filter.

“Fuck,” was Elsa’s response.

“Language!” Mary Margaret growled.

“He’s got his headphones on. He didn’t hear. Emma, are you okay?”

Emma laughed. “No, I’m not okay! I’m hiding in the bathroom, for fuck sake.”

“You just left him out there?”

“I didn’t know what to do!”

“You have to go back out there. He’s going to think–”

“Oh, leave her alone.”

“No, she’s right.” Emma covered her face with her free hand. “Oh god. What am I going to say?”

“Considering that he just said he loves you, I vote no talking. Just kiss him.”

“Elsa!”

“Sorry! I just got off Skype with Ana. Anyway, he can’t hear us. He has his headphones on. Right, Henry?”

Silence.

“See.”

Mary Margaret clucked her tongue. “She’s right – _not_ about kissing him. You haven’t even been on a date yet.”

“This might be a date.” Why hadn’t she realized it was a date until he started confessing his feelings? Were they dating already, and she just hadn’t realized? “Oh god.”

“Emma.” Mary Margaret’s voice was firm. “Hang up the phone and go talk to him.”

“But–”

“Hang up. The phone. Right now.”

Emma ended the call.

***

It took Emma five minutes to work up the courage to leave the bathroom. By the time she left, Killian was gone. Their plates sat abandoned in their booth.

Ruby appeared beside her. “He left.”

Emma’s heart sank into her boots. “I suppose I should pay the bill.”

“No need,” Dorothy said. Appearing beside Ruby, she rummaged in her apron. “He paid.” She held out a piece of paper. “And he left this.”

Emma took the piece of paper meekly. She felt awful, like she’d been shoved through a meat grinder. Worse, actually. Like she’d been shoved through a wood chipper.

She unfolded the note.

_Sorry._

“Emma, are you okay?” Ruby put her hand on Emma’s shoulder.

Emma looked up at her sharply. Ruby jumped. “Whichwaydidhego?”

“What?”

“Which way did he go?” Emma repeated, slower this time.

Dorothy answered. “Towards the docks, I think.”

Emma ran.

***

Emma didn’t know what she was thinking. She didn’t know what she was planning to do. She just ran clean through town, heading for the docks, to the place she remembered _The Jolly Roger_ being. She didn’t spot him on her way, didn’t see him when she arrived.

She peered onto the deck. “Killian?”

No answer.

“Killian?”

A thud, a curse. “Emma?” Killian appeared on deck. He looked like he’d been crying. Emma felt her heart split clean in two.

“Killian…”

He looked away. “I’m fine. I’m not drowning myself in rum, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

She stepped off the dock onto _The Jolly Roger_ ’s deck. “Killian–”

“You don’t need to do this, Swan.” _Swan._ It was like he slammed a door in her face.

She grabbed him by the collar of his jacket, the way she’d always fantasized, and kissed him. He let out a noise of surprise and she laughed, wetly, against his lips. She was crying too; she didn’t know when she’d started.

“I’m sorry.” She couldn’t seem to open her eyes. She was too scared to. “I panicked.”

“You panicked?”

She felt his breath, his words, against her lips. It was too much. She kissed him again and this time, tentatively, he kissed back. She clung to the collar of his jacket like it could keep him there, always. He put his hand in her hair, resting the stump of his wrist against her lower back.

Somewhere in his mouth, she found courage.

She pulled back, but only slightly. Only enough so her lips were free. She opened her eyes and sight of him, desperate and hopeful, almost killed her.

“Killian…” Her voice was barely a whisper. “I think I’m falling in love with you too.”

He smiled like she’d offered him the world. He kissed her, and it felt like maybe she had.

***

Emma saw the news on Instagram. Everyone did. Mulan standing in her apartment, her hand turned towards the camera to show off her new engagement ring. She was grinning. She looked like she’d cried. The caption read: _She proposed first!_

Killian kissed the top of her head. “She was planning to propose next week.”

Emma smiled.

They were lying in Killian’s bed in each other’s arms. She felt guilty about not taking off her boots but she was too comfortable to move. It had been enough of a mission just getting out her phone to text Mary Margaret and Elsa.

Remembering, she sent that text now. The Instagram notification had distracted her.

She tossed her phone aside and turned her attention back to Killian. Unable to help herself – she couldn’t seem to stop, now that she’d started letting herself do these things – she kissed his collarbone.

He sighed happily. “You’re going to be the end of me, Emma.”

“Dramatic.”

“I try to be.”

She propped her chin up on his chest and he smiled down at her. He reached out, pushing her hair back, away from her face. His thumb caressed her cheek.

“I still haven’t read Peter Pan.”

“I’ll read it to you.”

She smiled. “You remember?”

“Aye. I remember everything with you.”

She kissed him then, soft and sweet, and _god._ He tasted like adventure. Like the ocean and hope. Like a horizon. Kissing him felt like the beginning.

Emma never wanted it to stop.


End file.
